


Subject 1: Techno Babble

by RiginEldritchLorae



Series: Project: Megahuman [1]
Category: Project: Megahuman
Genre: Comic, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2018-12-27 19:06:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12087444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiginEldritchLorae/pseuds/RiginEldritchLorae
Summary: The beginning of a new series of novels, where comic books meet logic! WARNING: I am currently in a spot of writer's block, and I'm stuck on chapter 2.





	1. Chapter 1: Pilot

Chapter 1: Pilot

"Let me guess, you're looking for a roommate?" was the first thing he said to me. It was Peps, my best friend, who introduced me to him. "So, are you going to answer my question?"

"Oh, uh, yes; uh, how'd you know?" I responded.

"Jack's always trying to find me a roommate," he explained. "So, what's your name?"

"It's Ashlee Hayes," I replied, giving him a firm handshake. "You?"

"Scott; Scott Rogers. Nice to meet you, Ashlee."

"So, what didn't work out with the other roommates?"

"They didn't pass my 'Roommate Test' I had them do."

"What's it consist of?"

"See for yourself," he said as he handed me a fifty-page questionnaire. "You're taking it if you think you can be my roommate."

After about two hours, I finished it and he said, "Well, it looks like I finally have a roommate."

"What? You didn't even look at it."

"Doesn't matter. You finished it. Not many people would sit for a couple of hours just to fill out a questionnaire."

"I didn't have a reason not to." The next five seconds were quiet.

"So," he finally broke the silence, "I have an apartment already in mind, I talked to the landlord, here's the key, address, he doesn't allow pets, and we'll work out personal rules tonight."

I stood there, blinking, mind blank except for confusion.

That evening, I decided to stop off at the apartment that he picked out. He was there, his literal half decorated with his stuff, the vast majority of which was Star Wars. A series of shelves holding a (collection? horde?) of figures still in their boxes lined one wall, while a series of posters covered another. On the last wall was _F-Stop_ merchandise.

My eyes wouldn't close for about a minute at a time. My jaw wouldn't stay up. The corners of my mouth wouldn't come down from amazement (or was it amusement? I forgot).

"You're early," I heard from the bedroom. "I expected you to be here around seven or eight."

"So, uh, what 'personal rules' are we going to work out?"

"You know: curfew, cans, cant's."

"Curfew?"

"Yeah."

"For who?"

"Both of us; unless we don't want to establish curfew, despite how many there are."

"What? Curfews?"

"No," he said with a chuckle. "Megahumans."

"Oh, yeah," I said, a bit embarrassed. "I forgot about them."

"You forgot?"

"Yeah…."

"How? They're all around us!"

"That's exactly why! If your bedroom was filled with a terrible smell, and you did nothing about it, you would eventually forget that the smell ever existed in the first place!"

"Um, whatever. So, are we going to set curfews?"

"How about midnight?"

"Why midnight?"

"Why not?"

"Too late."

"Okay, then ten."

"Ten sounds good to me."

"What extracurriculars did you take in high school?" I asked, curious.

"Um, let's see, I took Megahuman First Aid and AP Gym," he responded. "What about you?"

"Um, I took MFA and Subspace."

"Subspace, huh?"

"Yeah," I responded. "It's fun to create a room in here," I said, tapping on my head.

"Could you show me?"

"Sure, why not?"

I touched the doorway into his room, and a portal appeared in it.

"Is it hard?" he asked.

"Not anymore." He just stood as I walked to it. "Did you want to the room that I created in subspace or not?"

"Oh, right." _Then_ he started toward the portal. When we stepped through, we came to a room that can only be described as a TV teen girl's room, except with lavender walls and ceiling. I quickly closed the door, and he responded, "Why this?"

"It was the only thing I could come up with during classes."

"Mistress!" a young girl's voice came from the vanity said. "You're home!"

"Mistress?" Scott asked.

I sighed before explaining, "I was a bit bored in class every once in awhile, so I created a person in here at home to take over for me in school. She's what you would call my subconscious."

"I'm much more than that!" she piped in. "I'm also her maid!"

"But where is she?" Scott wondered to me.

Another sigh. "Come on out. It's okay. He's my roommate outside of here."

"Okay!" she chimed before leaping off the vanity and growing to the size of a twelve-year-old. "I'm Lily, and I love spending time with my mistress!" she exclaimed excitedly. She had red hair, blue eyes, and purple lipstick. A few freckles dotted her face.

"Okay…." Scott said to her before turning to me. "Is this all there is to your subspace world?"

"Nah, but I don't have time to show you--"

"What are you talking about, mistress?!" Lily interrupted. "Time in here compared to out there is dilated tenfold!"

Yet another sigh. "Lily," I said.

"Yes?"

"I didn't trust him enough to show him the rest of the fortress."

"Oh," she said, a bit gloomy.

"You of all people should know that."

"Sorry," she apologized, head down further.

"It's fine. You trust him, which I'm a bit scared of, and that's enough for me."

"Okay!"

I turned back to Scott. "Come on, let me show you the rest of my house."

"You said fortress earlier."

"Did I?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Well, then; let's begin the full tour."

Despite being called a fortress, the structure was more like a mansion than anything else. There were twenty luxury bedrooms, each with their own Lily-like maid; thirty bathrooms, fully equipped with toilets, tubs, showers, sinks, mirrors, and toiletries, all luxury; eleven luxury dining areas, each lit by candlelight and chandeliers, and with tables' seats numbering between ten and twenty; ten gaming areas, each with different floors consisting of different game types with fridges filled with soft drinks in glass bottles; five massive kitchens, each with ten or so workers going about the place working frantically trying to finish preparing the food perfectly; and twelve rooms that were locked with password-protected-padlocks (one ended up being a pool room with a hot tub).

"So, what do you think?"

"What happens if someone tries to break into your mind?"

"One: Lily; two: the place becomes a labyrinth to those I haven't authorized; and three: if they persist long enough, they are always shown the front door."

"This place has a front door?"

"Which leads to the Collective Subconscious, yes. It's fragile, and it takes months in here to reinstall because I need to put up a mental shield to keep it from getting sucked away as I rebuild it," I explained. "Which I hate."

"So, personal roommate rules?"

"Oh, right. Sorry, forgot."

"So, what are your skills?"

"Um, I can cook pretty well, and that's all I can remember right now. You?"

"I can cook really well."

"So, we both can cook, but not much else."

"Heh, seems so."

We left my fortress and proceeded to talk about our hobbies. I told him that I liked anime, Star Wars, _F-Stop_ , ice skating, rollerblading, and the _James Stark_ series. He said that he liked Star Wars, _F-Stop_ , and the _Scott Pilgrim_ series.

"It's basically a comic-book-slash-graphic-novel about a girl whose boyfriend has eleven evil exes," he said about _Scott Pilgrim_. "There are only ten volumes, but only because one of them has twins. The ending is filled with closure, but a bit unfulfilling."

"Okay…" I responded, kind of disinterested now. "So, is this all your stuff?"

"Um, kind of," he replied, looking a bit nervous. "Most of it is at work, where I have all the space I want for my gadgets."

"Gadgets?" I asked, curious.

"Oh, I work for Illint Enterprises in R&D."

"You work for Daedalus Illint?" I asked, semi-excited.

"Not directly, no." Disappointment. "I work for his cousin, Icarus."

"Eh, close enough."

The next morning, I had breakfast, strapped on my repulsor boots, and went to work. As I was in my usual Subspace route, I was surprised to see someone on my way. Subspace was completely empty, save my fortress and a strange area that seems to be protected by a barrier. I decided to talk to him on my way home from work, but he wasn’t there that afternoon.

That night consisted of binge watching _Scott Pilgrim_ on Hulu and eating popcorn.

The next two weeks were mostly uneventful from there. The most excitement I got those weeks was a couple D-listers trying to mug me, and me getting rid of them. This happened twice. Once while I was in Subspace, and once while I was on lunch break. How did he know I was in Subspace? I mean, it's completely empty except for me, my mental constructs, and the Collective Subconscious. Oh, and a strange, warped area I couldn't quite reach for some reason. Trust me when I say that I went to the edges of Subspace in order to see who and what else was there. It took a few years outside, but I got it done. I've also had my fortress robbed a few times. It was not fun putting the door back on its hinges. All those things I just mentioned (after the mugging part) happened about four, five years ago.

The next bit of excitement I got was when Techno Babble kidnapped me from on his oddly silent Repulsor Platform. I didn't even hear it fly down behind me as he picked me up by the back of my shirt.

"You know, I believe we haven't formally met," I yelled over the sound of the wind whipping through my hair and ears.

"No, we have not." he responded in a mechanical, warbled, indifferent voice, obviously using a standard-issue Voice Manipulator "I am Techno Babble. I am kidnapping you and taking you to my secret lair to hold you and nine others for ransom."

"Am I the first you kidnapped for this purpose?"

"No. You are the fifth." Same indifference in his voice.

"Well, then, when will I know when--"

"We're here."

As he said that, I noticed that ahead there was a docking station for flying vehicles and platforms opened up. He tossed me into what can only be described as a beaker large enough to hold a giant with a padded floor. A robot that looked like Mettaton from _Undertale_ \--except with a head that had three eyes and a pair of dual-segmented legs with wheels as feet--rolled by, noticed me, and asked, "Um, sir? Who is this?"

"This, Luthor," Techno Babble began, "is another hostage."

"Oh, dear, not another one."

"What was that?" He asked in a threatening tone.

"What? I did not say anything."

"I just hope he keeps you," the robot Luthor said to me as he opened the door of the beaker I didn't notice before.

"Why is that?"

"He keeps trying to find a hostage to keep, but he never succeeds. I simply want him to be happy, as he built me, and I am programmed to wish for his happiness."

I thought about what Luthor had said as he took me to the holding cells with four other civilians who were playing a game of cards. After about an hour he brought back two more, and after another hour, he brought another person, and after a third hour, the last two. We were all playing poker by then, using the money in our wallets. After Techno Babble made the ransom demand of one grand, he joined in. When the ransom came in, this was the result: five of the others were broke, while a couple others had won $50, another won about $100, a couple others won $25-$35, I won $80, and Techno won $43. It was a good game. He released all of them but kept me, and I asked him why.

"It gets lonely up here."

"But you have Luthor to keep you company."

"Luthor is merely a VI. I have yet to create an AI."

"Why not make one, then?"

"The processing units required are all in government buildings. On top of that, I cannot get into one with a container with which I can steal an AI processing unit, and I cannot leave without a bag check."

"Then take a stainless steel water bottle?"

"Why have I not thought of that? I am an idiot."

"Only sometimes. From what I can see, though, most of the time, you're a genius."

"A mere formality designed to persuade me to release you," he analyzed.

"No, a sincere compliment designed to show how polite I can be."

"My apologies. I did not realize that you were simply being polite."

"It's okay, I guess. Where are we, anyway?"

"Inside a Rent-A-Lab located within Illint Enterprises, owned by the one all nega-humans strive to be like: Dead-Eye."

"Dead-Eye? As in Daedalus Illint?"

He smirked before responding, "Yes, the very same. These Rent-A-Labs are the hardest to get, considering the rent and the queue, and the fact that they are owned by the singular greatest nega-human to ever exist!"

"That's nice and all, but I _really_ need to get to work, or they'll fire me."

"They'll pay you abduction pay."

"Really? Wait, what's abduction pay?"

"It is similar to maternity leave, but if you are kidnapped by a nega-human," he explained. "The level of nega-human that kidnaps you depends on the percentage of your pay that you are paid during your abduction. It only lasts up to a month at a time, though, because of the time in Illint Ent when a nega-human used abduction pay to pay his rent for his Rent-A-Lab for a whole year."

"Um, I'm not sure how to respond."

"Everyone says that during orientation."

"So, Luthor said that you're always searching for a hostage that you're willing to keep," I said, trying to help. "Could you elaborate for me?"

"No, I would--" he paused unexpectedly. "Actually, yes I think I will," he said, and added under his breath, "Goodness knows it will help my mood."

"About a few years ago," he began, "I was looking for a place to stay while in my civilian disguise. Before I knew it, I held my landlord for ransom. After a few times, I realized--" he paused again. "Wait! What is going on?! Why am I telling you my backstory of sensitive information?!"

"Because I asked you to?" I guessed.

"That is it. I am dropping you off!" He grabbed me by my arm, mounted his Repulsor Platform, and took off with me still in his grip. He must have drugged me because the next thing I know, I'm waking up outside my work at closing time. I looked the next morning, and I wasn't paid abduction pay. I looked into it, and apparently you have to apply the company's insurance plan in order to be applicable for abduction pay. When I found out, I was so pissed, I almost pulled everyone at work into Subspace. (The only reason I didn't is because Lily cried at how upset I was, which calmed me down for some reason.)

The next morning, Scott was making eggs and bacon for breakfast. We chatted about megas awhile.

"What do you think about Techno Babble?" I asked him.

"Um, I think he's underrated," Scott responded.

"Why?"

"Well, for starters, I heard that his Rent-A-Lab is somewhere in Illint Ent, and another thing is that I heard that all his gear is handmade."

"Whose isn't these days?"

"I mean, not just his suit and gadgets, but also his Repulsor Board and the stuff in his Rent-A-Lab." Something didn't seem right.

"Who did you hear all this from?" I asked.

"Not who; where. I read about it on his Nega-media profile," he explained. Oh, so that's why everyone knows all about the C- and D-List megas.

"Oh. Okay. I'll be sure to look it up later."

We then went on to talk about Star Wars and _F-Stop_ . Then we talked about our favorite books. Mine were the _James Stark_ series and _The Darkness of the Amulets_ . His were the Star Wars books and _Sundown_.

"That one? Really?" I asked, disgusted.

"Yes, really. Why?"

"It's the worst 'love story' ever. In the movie version, all they did was stare at each other for two-thirds of the whole thing, and in the other one-third was them apart from each other!"

"Don't mock--I guess you're right. It is the worst. I don't know why I liked it for so long."

The next day was a shopping day. I went around Mondas Mall buying stuff. Peps was there with someone I didn't recognize. She noticed me and waved me over.

"This is my roommate, John Doe," she introduced him to me.

"John Doe?"

"I know!" she laughed. "I didn't believe it, either, until he showed me his gliding license."

"How come I've never seen him before?" I asked, recalling every time I've been over at her apartment.

"He's always busy with work, I guess."

"What do you do?" I asked John.

"I'm a minion-for-hire," he responded plainly.

"So you know all the A-listers?" Peps asked.

"No," he replied, "I mostly do work for C- and D-listers."

"Oh well." Peps turned to me. "So what are you doing here today?"

"Shopping. You?"

"I'm on a date with Johnny-boy!" His face went red.

"What'd she use against you?" I asked him.

"What?"

"She usually has to guilt-trip guys into going out with her. What'd she use to get to you?"

"Nothing, Ash," Peps responded angrily.

"Yeah, I decided to go out with her because, as her roommate, I wanted to get to know her more. Plus this works out when her birthday comes because I won't have not known, and I can escape her wrath by buying her a small gift."

"That probably wasn't a good thing to say right in front of her."

"Shit." It was as if he forgot Peps was even there.

"Is that the real reason you went out with me?!" Peps asked in a demanding, make-a-scene tone of voice.

"It's not what you think, Peps," he said in a nervous, concerned-for-his-life tone of voice.

"Then what is it?!"

"It's just that I'm not at the apartment very much, so I decided to get to know you so you wouldn't get angry if I didn't get you anything for your birthday!"

"Hey," I told him. "Don't get so worked up about this. You'll get used to it. She's an attention hog."

"Ash! Why'd you say that?"

Ignoring her, I said, "Don't give her any extra attention when she does something like this, and she'll stop."

"Really? Thanks."

"Ash!"

"Oh, just stop, Peps. You're cute, but only with a support role."

The rest of the day went well. I got to try making a new food (sweetrolls), enjoy it with Scott, and play a game of Settlers of Catan with him. The next day, I saw Techno Babble steal a bank vault out of the Skaro City Bank. I managed to have a laugh by climbing on the roof, putting a Subspace bridge in the gaping hole, and put myself into the vault to return the money. The money was returned, but the vault was still stolen; something tells me he took it for the metal and not just the money. That night, as I turned the TV on, I saw on the news footage of a "Pink 'Porter" who returned the money stolen from the bank by Techno Babble. I looked up where the news station was online, put on a mask from Subspace, and went over there myself to clear something up.

"I'm called, 'Roller Derby'," I told them while physically in the studio. "Get it right." That fixed the problem. Unfortunately, it also got me unwanted attention. My co-workers were fawning over me, having recognized my voice on the news. It was worse than the time I fumbled into the Collective Subconscious for a week outside; there were a lot of thoughts to climb over to get back out. *Shudders at memory*. At least the attention I got this time was positive.


	2. Chapter 2: First Day

Chapter 2: First Day (Feat. Backstory [and Author's Note])

Around five thousand years ago, a phenomenon occurred where a shockwave covered the earth. A generation later, there were what are now called megahumans, or as you would know them, metahumans or superhumans. They are categorized by six letters, in order of most powerful to least powerful: X, S, A, B, C, and D. Nowadays about one in every five people are megas; I am one of them. This chapter is about my first day as the heroine Roller Derby (it was either that or Pink 'Porter) fighting against the aforementioned villain Techno Babble.

[Author's Note: From now on, these author's notes, however rare, will be injected directly into the text of the book between brackets instead of parentheses in order to allow clear distinction between Author's Notes and actual text of the book. These will only be included in the Limited (Collector's) Edition copy of the book. Enjoy!]

I went to the Griffoth Gear Shop and ended up getting a face mask (just in case), repulsorlift roller blades (for aerial combat and if I need to tail), a HUD (duh), a pair of radio headsets (to get in touch with my info-broker Peps), a police scanner (so I can know where to find negas), and a dimensionally transcendental backpack (for my stuff). In Subspace, I climbed into my backpack to begin calibration, and found myself in quite a tardis. I noticed that I hadn't moved from Subspace, except Lily wasn't there. So I went deeper. And deeper. And deeper. After climbing into about the tenth backpack, I realized that I was still  _ in _ the backpack. So I looked up, saw the gaping hole of the next level up, and so I climbed out, layer after layer, until I reached the first layer. Then I began the calibration. I changed the look of the place, moving things around until I was satisfied with the look, and installed some organizational constructs. Then I exited into Subspace, and I took the backpack to work. No one was surprised. No one cared. 

After work, I changed in the backpack and went off to fight Techno Babble. The only ones that cared were fangirls and fanboys, mostly the latter. The outfit I used was a pink jacket with black sleeves, on top of a black tee; the face mask I bought from Griffoth; long denim shorts; my repulsorlift rollerblades; and the backpack. When I found him, I flew up to him and punched him.

“Ow!” he yelled. “What the hell was that for?”

“Do you watch the news at all?”

“Sometimes.”

“Well, I’m Roller Derby.”

“As in the brat who slowed my funding?”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” he said as he pulled out what looked like a chaff grenade, “here, then.” He pulled the pin.  “Catch.” He tossed the chaff grenade at me.

I caught it, but it exploded into smoke. “Damn! It wasn’t a chaff!” I yelled.

I switched the vision mode of the lenses, and quickly found him. As I caught up to him, I tagged him with the targeting system.

“What do you want from me?!” he turned around and yelled.

“I want you to stop being a nega!” I yelled to him. Under my breath I added, “Actually, no, I don’t because I'm finally getting positive attention from my coworkers.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing! Come back here and fight like a man!”

“You are not even a man!”

“So what?!”

“So, you are one to talk!”

“What, because I’m a girl?!”

“Yes!”

“Well, [EXPLETIVE] you!”

“Where did that come from?!”

“Just fight me!”

“Fine! Just leave me alone afterwards!”

“Okay, fine!”

And so we fought. It went terribly. We both fumbled a lot, and we fought (if you could even call it that) until we got out of breath. When we both wore out, we called it quits for the day. I got back to the apartment, and I told Scott I was going to the gym tomorrow.

“Why?”

“Do I have to tell you?”

“No.”

“Okay, then. Butt out.”

That week, I used the MSF (Megahuman Simulation Fighter) on the “Novice“setting. It wasn't that different from kickboxing. The next month, I used it on the “Apprentice“setting. It was more like the CQC you see in movies, but a bit sluggish. The next couple of months, I used it on the “Adept“setting. It was like the “Apprentice“setting, but faster. After those months, I used it on the “Expert“setting for about six months. It was faster, plus the movements were a bit more random. The “Master“setting, which I used for about a year or two, was faster and  _ much _ more randomized, and the “Impossible“setting, which I couldn't even keep up with, must have been made for speedsters, because I couldn’t even land a hit, and I had to use the User Override Shutoff to get it to stop pummelling me.

Each use of it helped me to fight Techno Babble more effectively. Unfortunately for me, he was also improving. At the same rate as me, too. I wonder if he was also using an MSF. A day or two after I more or less beat the MSF, Peps called me.

“Hey, Ash?”

“What do you want?”

“Can you meet me over at my place? Oh, and in your 'first date' dress? I have something I need to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“I can't say until you get here. See ya then!” And then she hung up.

When I got there, Peps took me to her room and asked, “Can I trust you with what I’m about to show you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Can. I. Trust. You?”

“Yes, of course.”

“You won’t tell anyone?”

“No. Where is all this coming from, all of a sudden?”

“Good. I need to wind down.” And so, she turned into a little red-and-black-speckled rabbit. “I thought I could never turn back into this form around people.”

“You turn,” I said in an ‘inconceivable’ tone of voice before turning to an ‘awwwwwww’ tone with, “into a cute little bunny?!”

“You fight a guy with a repulsor-lift platform, and you’re surprised by  _ this _ ?” She looked annoyed when she said that.

“But you’re just so… so… so  _ kawaii _ !”

“English, please.”

“ _ So adorable _ !”

“Get over it!” She transformed back. “I called you here to say that I set you up on a blind date.”

“Ugh, again?”

“Yep! You’ll be at the Gallifrey Café in ten minutes at table 7, or you’ll be sorry!” she said as she unwrapped a chocolate bar and popped it into her mouth. The whole thing. [If you want to know why she ate the whole thing in one gulp, either (a) continue reading this chapter, or (b) read the  _ Misfits _ series by T. Ririe. It’s about Peps’ brother, and the author and I are planning a HUGE crossover event plus some mini-crossovers and lots of hints throughout all of our series. Also, feel free to skip this chapter, but you’ll miss out on a bit of the story if you do.]

I got to table ten at Gallifrey Café, and I saw, “Scott?”

“Ashlee?”

“What are you doing here?”

“A hen--I mean, friend of mine, John Doe, set me up on a blind date. What about you?”

“Peps.”

“Blind date?”

“Yep. Wait, did you say John Doe?”

“Yeah, why?”

“John Doe is the name of Peps’ roommate.”

“Sandy hair, green eyes, about 5’ 6”, lithe, mole under his left eye?”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, and oddly specific, but yes.”

“It’s the same guy that set me up on this date.” When he said that, I did the hand-to-eye thing that’s usually accompanied by a sigh. “Might as well go through with it. We’re already here, we’ve been roommates for a couple years, and Peps is kinda scary when she’s angry.”

“Why? I never understood why people are so scared of her.”

“Well, the way I heard it from when she and coach were talking about her being in AP gym, she has a genetic cellular condition where her body processes sugar too quickly, and as a result, she’s always eating chocolate, and that’s where all her energy comes from.”

“What about how she’s scary when she’s angry?”

“You’ve never gotten a hyper-energetic person angry, have you?”

“No, why?”

“Nevermind.”

Sufficient to say, the date went well. We ended up talking about our pasts more, and we learned that Peps was in my AP Math class and his AP Gym class. We shared a sundae and got Doli Kakes, not sure why they’re called that. We shared a taxi ride back to the apartment, as he took a cab there in the first place, and I took Subspace. We continued talking, and ended up making out for ten, thirty seconds. And it was awkward for everyone.

That night at the apartment, we had a  _ Harry Potter _ marathon and ate kettle corn in Subspace. When we finally left into the actual apartment, my police scanner picked up something.

“ Suspect is going down 17th Street, just passed Petrichor Drive. ”

“ What is the nature of the suspect? ”

“ The suspect is believed to be a henchman of Techno Babble. ”

“ Copy that. ”

“Well, goodnight,” I told Scott as I yawned and went back into Subspace to change into Roller Derby. It took a while to find the route they were taking, but I found it in time and opened up a door to where they would be in a few minutes, hoping to get some glory out of beating the guy to a pulp and stashing him in Hammerspace, or rather, my backpack. What I got instead was not that.

He managed to almost run me over, but I managed to put up a bridge to right behind him, so I just had to wait for him to either run out of gas, or I could wait for him to get out. He got out of his car, but before I could pull him into Hammerspace, Techno Babble swooped down and snagged him. I followed him, trying to get close enough to grab the guy away from him. In the end, he went to the top of Illint Ent. and dropped the guy. He didn’t survive the fall.

“Someone died because I stopped them but didn’t catch them in time,” I told Peps later.

“Oh,” she said, eating a bar of chocolate, “you mean that Techno Babble henchman that got dropped  from the top of Illint Ent?” She opened up another bar. “Yeah, no, his death isn’t on your hands. Babble swooped in before you had a chance to react. It’s not your fault.” Another bar.

“Hey, Peps?”

“Yeah?”

“Could I have one of those?” I pointed to her stash of chocolate bars.

“Ash, when was the last time you stress-ate?” Yet another bar.

“A few years ago, why?”

“And did go over well?”

“Well, I wouldn’t come out of Subspace for in-Subspace days, so I’d say no.”

“That’s right, honey. Sorry, but no chocolate for you.”

“It’s okay. Thanks anyway.”

She was opening another bar when she said, “For what?”

“For helping to remind me of what I do when I stress-eat.”

“You’re welcome!”

The next thing we knew, the smoke detector burst into flames. We took ten minutes to put it out, five of which were of laughing from the irony.

When I got back to my apartment, Scott asked, pure curiosity in his voice, “Where were you this morning?”

“Peps’.”

“What’d you do?”

“She talked me out of stress-eating.” He chuckled. “What’s so funny?”

“I had the same conversation this morning.”

“Did something weird happen afterwards?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“I had a hunch. What was it?”

“The smoke detector combusted.” I chuckled. “What’s so funny this time?”

“That happened over at Peps’.” We both had a good laugh at that. Then the fridge burst into flames. We took no time to put it out.

The next day, I caught Techno Babble mugging someone. I called out to get his attention, and he just took out what looked like a miniature Energy Sword from  _ HALO _ and stabbed the poor guy. Right after that, he flew off on his Repulsor Platform, leaving me with the body.

The day after that, Scott and I decided to go on another date. This time, it was at the new Chelonian restaurant. It ended up being basically a glorified Carraba’s. Anyway, the date went great. We ordered a couple bottles of champagne, the rest was a blur, and apparently we subspaced home drunk, and didn’t make it out of my fortress. Unfortunately, somehow the MGS (all I know is that the M stands for Megahuman, and it’s basically law enforcement for megahumans) found out about it, and we got ticketed for it. Bastards. Scott said that he told me something on the way to to fortress, but I couldn’t remember what it was.

The next morning, I called in sick, considering my hangover. I wasn’t the only one with a hangover, obviously, and so Scott also called in sick. We spent the morning trying to remember what happened last night, but we both drew up blanks. All he could remember was that he told me something while we were in Subspace. That afternoon, we were playing  _ F-Stop _ in co-op. That evening was spent watching rom coms and making out. [For all you haters out there: I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU THINK! I HAVE ASHLEE AND SCOTT GETTING TOGETHER AT THE END OF THIS BOOK, SO THIS NEEDS TO HAPPEN! SORRY NOT SORRY!]

Life went on as usual the next day, until Peps called me over to her place that weekend.

“Hey,” I said to a guy with red, peppered hair on her couch.

“Hello,” he responded. The way he said it made me think of Peps.

“What’s up, Peps?” I called to her in the other room.

Peps came jogging into the living room, and said, “Ash, this is Cumin. Cumin,” she turned to him, “this is Roller Derby.”

“You recognized my voice, too?”

“Actually, it was your clothes.”

“What?”

“You dress in a very distinctive style. You may as well have been screaming to me your identity.”

“Oh. So, who’s Cumin?”

“He’s a clone of my parents made on another Earth. So, I guess he’s my brother.”

“That’s cool,” I said. “So, are you a mega, or…?”

“On my Earth, I’m the first negahuman.”

“No. Way.”

“Yeah, I’m not too proud about it.” It was then that I noticed that he was wearing long sleeves and pants and a glove.

“What’s the glove for?”

“On my Earth, I was known as Trigger Finger.”

“Gunner?”

“No; explosives. I was also called Shrapnel.”

“Why Trigger Finger, then?”

He pulled his glove off, and he revealed a cybernetic arm. He said, “This is why.” Then he grabbed a can of Noca-Cola from the fridge, led us outside, put a marble-sized piece of clay on the bottom, and set it on the ground. “I do it like this ‘cause it’s fun.” He snapped and the can exploded.

“What was it that you used?” I asked, amazed.

“Limran, a plastic explosive of my own design,” he replied. “Ten times more powerful than C4 and Semtex combined.” He paused. “But it’s not as interesting as your future.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I would like all to know that words within the [] are other Author's Notes, and when my works are published, will only appear in the first 1,000 copies, dubbed "Special Edition" in the next chapter. Also, I would appreciate constructive criticism and feedback from all readers.  
> Thank you for your time,  
> \- REL


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